The Brave Bartender And The Hundred Dollar Guy
by Iane Casey
Summary: A series of drabbles and oneshots based on what could have been had Klaus and Camille [or the TO TPTB] approached things differently. Could also include some delusions on what could be. Klaus/Camille pairing. Marked M for chapters down the line.
1. Light Overcoming the Darkness

_**A/N:**_ I'm a bit late to this bandwagon, but damn I can't help but be drawn to Klaus and Cami's relationship, no matter how short-lived. I've only ever shipped and written about House/Cuddy from House M.D., but here we are. Anyway… new to the fandom (and this ship that has unfortunately sailed) and have heard about opposing ships. No hate, please. This was just to get my creative juices flowing again after almost 2 years.

This story is mainly going to be a collection of Klaus/Camille drabbles and long-ass oneshots. I would love to write a whole fic, but my current responsibilities and priorities won't allow me to squeeze it in. And I've still got one final House/Cuddy fanfic to complete.

But yeah, this is going to be about things I wish the show had done. I do harbor some hope that they will resurrect Camille, but I won't be holding my breath. Hence the fanfiction. Lol. Please note that this will _always_ be marked complete, but I will update from time to time, if my schedule and muse permits. :)

Without further ado, please enjoy and leave some love if you did. ;)

* * *

 _ **LIGHT OVERCOMING THE DARKNESS**_

* * *

He could physically feel the light from within him dying. Darkness and sorrow engulfed the entirety of his being. A life without her could not be possible and he could not foresee eternity without their conversations tethering him to his humanity.

Holding her cold, ashen hands with his own he gazed at her lifeless form, silent and unmoving on his bed.

"I failed you," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "For that I am deeply sorry."

He did not know for how long he remained in that room to stay with her. He did not care. He did not want her to be alone. Even in death. He owed it to her to stay with her until the time has come for her to be laid to rest with her family. The family who deserved a better hand than what Fate dealt them. The family who had done nothing but try and make the cruel world they lived in a better and more peaceful place for all.

His chest constricted with the rage welling within it. He hung his head low and closed his eyes. He will make Lucien pay for what he'd done. He exhaled quietly. Death would be merciful and he will not show mercy. He was going to…

His skin prickled with cold sweat and shock overcame him the moment he felt her hand squeeze his in return. His head swiftly turned towards her and her slowly lightening complexion.

"Camille?" he called her name. He stood up and sat next to her, caressing her face with a tear escaping his eye. He couldn't be dreaming, could he? He wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't be.

If she was awaking it only meant that Hope's blood- or Lucien's- actually worked and only needed some time to take effect.

"Cami?" He pulled her upper half onto his lap and settled her against his form. "Talk to me, love," he whispered, his lips caressing her warming skin. "Talk to me." He hoped for her to speak like he has never allowed himself to hope before. He watched for any sign of further movement from her with unblinking eyes.

And as though Fate had heard his heart's desperate plea, her eyes slowly opened to the world. A weight lifted from his chest and he was blown away by the sight of them.

"My Brave Bartender," he breathed, his lips brushing against the palm of her hand.

A small smile curled at the edges of her chapped lips as she replied hoarsely, "My Hundred Dollar Guy."

Surprise overcame them both when Klaus let out a genuine laugh of relief towards her response, a tear escaping his eye. He held her tight, repeatedly peppering the crown of her head with the lightest of kisses.

"Klaus?" Cami called his name when she felt wetness on the side of her face. She frowned and tried her best to sit up. She held his face with her hands and wiped the tears from his face and from his eyes.

"You died," he choked, breaking her heart to see his heart unraveling before her. "You died and I lost you, and-"

"I'm here now," she told him, reminded him. "Thanks to you. To all of you. Whatever you did brought me back."

She pressed her forehead to his and listened to the sound of his breathing. She knew she had an effect on him, but she did not know how deep it ran. Now she knew. She could feel it in the way his hands gripped her forearms. In the way his eyes lit up when hers opened after a short slumber. In the way his tears leaked from his eyes unabashed.

"I'm here now," she repeated, pressing her lips to his.

He responded by wrapping his arms around her. One hand on her upper back and another to settle on the back of her head. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent, listened to the healthy pulse from her neck. She was back. She was alive. They didn't fail her.

"I never wish to be parted from you again," he whispered, holding her tightly against him.

She smiled at his words, her eyes closing of their own volition to savor them. She felt the same way.

He pulled away from their embrace and caressed her beautiful face. Looking deeply into her eyes, he promised, "No harm shall ever befall you again, love. I will always be here for you. Always and forever."

She lifted a hand to cradle one side of his face. "I love you, Klaus," she professed, finding pleasure in being able to easily say it now, more than ever. "Always and forever," she added with joy enveloping her heart and a twinkle in her eyes.

He grinned that crooked grin of his before fusing their lips together. Softly, slowly, he relished the feel of her lips on his. The tenderness with which her tongue slid over the seam of his mouth in invitation. He was only too happy to oblige. They kissed for what seemed like forever before they parted, foreheads meeting once more.

"There's something you forgot to tell me," she teased, smiling brightly, serenely. She pulled back and looked into the eyes of the devilishly handsome man she loved and waited.

"I love you, Cami," he told her, his voice certain and strong, warming her heart.

He pulled her into his embrace once more and just basked in the overwhelming sensation of having her in his arms again.

He knew there was still a war to be won. But he was more than ready to collect the head and heart of the monster that almost successfully stole his light from him. Even though Lucien had failed to successfully snuff out Camille's life, his decision has not been changed. In fact, because Camille lives, he was resolute now more than ever in the decision to take Lucien's wretched existence from this world. Never mind that death would be a mercy. He would make certain Lucien can never harm her or anyone he held dear ever again.


	2. Love in the Time of War

_**A/N:**_ Hey guys! Me again. So I've decided to keep my Klaus/Camille oneshots and drabbles in one place. If you've read the first fic, then you'd notice I've changed some stuff. Please don't mind me, I just reorganized.

Anyway, this one was triggered by that deleted Marcel/Cami scene where they acknowledged the "break up". Here's another take on it. My highly delusional take, that is.

Drop a rev to let me know what you think or if you'd like to read more, too. Hell, throw in some prompts. I won't promise I'll write one for each, if any, but I can get _inspired._

Enjoy!

* * *

 _ **LOVE IN THE TIME OF WAR**_

* * *

He couldn't sleep.

Her words lingered in his mind and gripped his heart like a vice.

It was not gone, what she felt for him. It could not have fled with her humanity. Despite her words he harbored hope that the Camille he loved was in there. That the Camille who, as she claimed, loved him, was still there.

Loved. She had said _loved_. The tense left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He could replay the pain he saw in her eyes, the lump in her throat as she spoke to him.

It could not have been easy for her to say those words. It wasn't a party hearing them either. Especially not from her. But he could not blame her.

He stood from the couch and reached for the bottle of bourbon closest to him. He didn't bother looking for a glass and instead drank straight from the bottle before hurling it against the wall with all his might.

How was he to fix this? He had nothing but love for her. Had it been a crime to hold her back from the dark path she was spiraling towards? He did not want her tainted by the darkness that consumed him daily. The darkness she has succeeded in keeping him from relapsing into one too many times.

He just wanted to keep her safe.

As he sat back down on one of the chairs he cradled his head with both hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Klaus?"

His head stayed down, afraid of letting Hayley see the water slowly pooling in his eyes without his permission.

He could feel her closing in on him, daring to go past his personal space. He flinched slightly when he felt her palm settle on his upper back.

"I'm sorry about Cami," she told him in a genuine whisper, her hand stroking his back with soothing circles.

He felt her sit herself down on the arm of the chair, not even afraid of him lashing out. She probably knew him too well to know that he wouldn't. At least not at that moment. From the tone of her voice he knew she was there as his friend- not someone to judge.

So he confided in her and told her what had happened earlier that night. Hayley just listened intently.

"She told me that the part of her that loved me was gone," Klaus repeated, finally picking his head up to look at Hayley.

She could not help but think how much he looked like a lost boy at that moment. She did not like him most of the time, but he was family to her. He was the father of her daughter. Truth be told, he was her friend. Their differences and quarrels aside, she knew he needed her advice and she was more than prepared to supply him with that.

"Don't let her go, Klaus," she told him, her hand sliding from his back to grip his arm. "After everything that has happened, you couldn't possibly believe her feelings have grown cold."

He shook his head. He would not force himself upon Cami's life if his presence was unwanted.

"She was perfectly lucid when she said it, Little Wolf," he informed her.

"It was a long day. Nothing was going the way she had planned. People died, again, at your hands. Aurora still lives to torment her due to your affections for her," she reasoned. "Did it not occur to you that maybe she was just scared? Or tired of all the drama?"

"I hardly think I am to be blamed-"

Hayley clicked her tongue and crossed her arms against her chest. She stood from where she was perched and looked at him.

"You were sleeping with Aurora while Lucien had her locked up and threatened her friend to force her to look for the Serratura. Even after having gotten what he needed, he still kept Cami hostage. Aurora hurt her after finding out about _your_ feelings for her. She tried to kill her- but that plan failed, so she turned her instead, believing it would make you fall out of love the moment she lost her humanity."

"Camille's humanity isn't the only thing that drew me to her," Klaus grumbled. She was an extraordinary woman.

Hayley looked at him, pondering whether to continue or just drop the most screwed up part in all of this. She took a deep breath and continued when he looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

"You also could have killed Aurora- you could have easily ended her life to _guarantee_ Cami's safety, but in your twisted logic you let her live so she can _suffer_. What do you think that translates to, for Cami?"

Klaus fell silent, scratching at his scruff. He extended a hand and tried to explain to her calmly, "I wanted Aurora to suffer for hurting her. Death would have been a mercy- one she didn't deserve after what she'd done."

"Guess who's suffering now with the knowledge that you might have spared your first love because of lingering affection," Hayley simply noted. "Guess who's second-guessing not only herself while in transition but also second-guessing her role in your life with Aurora still in the picture?"

She sighed and looked at him, more serious this time. "This life… it can be too much, Klaus. And Cami was only human. And she's transitioning, on her own. The moment Tristan or Lucien finds Aurora they will free her. And Aurora will attempt to hurt Cami again, there's no question about that. She can't focus on too many things like this, right now, not while she's transitioning. You could easily lose her to the darkness you keep failing to keep her from."

Hayley shrugged, telling him, "Life hasn't really been easy on her lately. And you haven't been supportive in the right way. And we're the only ones left in her life. She's stuck with our lot. Despite everything her and her family's connection to us have cost them."

Klaus nodded in understanding. Sean. Kieran. What Aurora had done. Her being the last O'Connell. Being a vampire. Being under constant threat because of him.

"What should I do?" he looked at her, practically imploring her for a way to make things right.

"Go to her," Hayley said simply. "Listen to her. Ask her what she needs. Tell her you'll be there for her. She already knows how you feel. Right now she is more important than you, what you want, and what's happening in your life. This is about her and her future."

Klaus contemplated her words and nodded. Hayley bit her lip before pointing towards the staircase near her. "I'll go to bed now," she told him. Before leaving him she ordered, "Go to her. I'm pretty sure she needs you right now. Even if she says otherwise."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, offering her a small smile. She returned it and then disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, Klaus steeled himself before making his way to Camille's place.

* * *

She was seated on the bed, her back against the headboard, knees pressed towards her chest and her arms folded over them. Her eyes were red and cheeks marred with the tears she had shed.

She still looked beautiful to him.

He leaned against the side of her balcony door and spoke out of nowhere. "I thought I had already helped with the insomnia."

Startled green-blue eyes looked at him and he swore he saw something resembling relief flash across her features. Or maybe she was relieved to find it was him and not his enemies. His face fell slightly at that thought. He wanted to destroy anything and everything that frightened her.

"Klaus."

Seemingly catching the tone in her acknowledgement of his presence, her voice became the slightest bit stronger when she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Brushing a hand across his nape, he looked at her. "I thought you could use a friend." She didn't answer him and that pressured him enough to admit, "I didn't want you to be alone."

"And if I ask you to leave, would you?"

The look that question elicited gave her the impression that her words stung and the part of her that loved him still hated herself for it.

"I can sit right here and talk," Klaus chose to say, sliding down the frame of her door until he sat on the floor, facing the balcony. He took in the darkness and the lights blending in perfect harmony before his eyes. He basked in the music dancing across the streets below

"I am sorry," he started, still staring at a far away distance. "For forcing your hand and relentlessly taking away your right to a choice."

"It's a bit too late for that," she told him, only a little bitter now. She didn't want to die, not really. She had come to realize that she just wanted the decision to be hers instead of it just being made for her. After what Aurora had done she needed any semblance of power and control over her fate.

"I will not apologize for wanting you to live," Klaus said in defense, glancing her way briefly. He recalled Hayley's words. The next phrase would be the last thing he would add. "I need you in my life. I am, however, sorry for taking away your choice. And for my selfishness."

Cami's heart twitched at his words and she held his gaze. He was the first to break it by closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall behind him.

"How's the weather outside?" The question, her voice, as if it was an ordinary night and they weren't going through something, brought forth a chuckle from him.

"Windy, but not overly so," Klaus described, keeping his eyes closed, the cool wind caressing and calming him. "You can sit with me, if you'd like," he added. She ignored the invitation.

Silence. He listened to the sound of people milling about the streets. She listened to his breathing, mainly, wondering why he had shown up despite her basically breaking up with him. She would have snorted out loud. She closed her eyes instead.

Their relationship had barely even begun.

That made her squeeze her eyes to stop the threat of tears about ready to fall again.

Why couldn't it be easy for them to come together? Why did there always have to be something to divide them? If it wasn't her who was holding back, it was him. If it was neither of them, it was someone else- a person or some other otherworldly force.

This time it was Aurora. She could not be with Klaus while Aurora still lived. But she could not kill her. That wasn't how she was. She didn't go around killing people. She could now, but that didn't mean she would.

She had already violated some people by compelling them. Her eyes screwed shut upon remembering what she had done to Will. That was stupid and out of desperation.

She barely registered Klaus offering her a penny for her thoughts. Had she not been troubled by said thoughts she would have smiled. The last time he had said those words was the night they shared their first kiss.

Sighing heavily, she admitted, "I don't know who I am right now. And I'm afraid I don't have control over who I'll end up being."

Staring at the wall before her she told him, "My thoughts keep transitioning from who I know I am and the darkness I know I'm capable of." She needn't mention that it wasn't just her thoughts, but her actions as well.

Klaus turned his head to look at her, his eyes trained on the silent tears cascading down her face. He could feel how terrified she was.

"To top it all off, the hunger keeps consuming every ounce of strength I have. I'm just so tired," she revealed, exhaling. "I could barely control it."

Klaus understood that he needed to be the one to help her now. She did not have the priest to help her anymore. He was lost to the world.

She was not wrong when she told him that he could barely contain his own darkness. But her mere presence helped tether him from going past that line. She helped him control the pull. He wanted to be the safe place she has always been for him.

"Do not let the anger consume you, love," he advised. "Surround yourself with good things-"

She cut him off, anger suddenly taking hold of her. "It's not like I haven't tried, Klaus. I've been kidnapped and played with. By people whose goals happen to include your death and pain to whoever you held dear." Her eyes darkened and cleared in the span of seconds. She took a deep breath to steel herself. Her stomach clenched at the rage pooling inside her.

"You are and will always be a good person, Camille. Turning will send your senses and emotions into turmoil, but if you learn how to control everything- which I'm certain you will- it will ebb."

He looked at her with such faith that her hardened gaze softened. "What if it doesn't?" she asked, fearful.

"It will," he reassured her. "I will be by your side, if you'll allow. I might not be a paragon of control, but let me try. For you. If you will trust me."

And she did trust him. It was herself she didn't trust, not at the moment. She watched as he dropped his head to look at the floor. He looked distraught, like he didn't know how else to comfort her.

They remained quiet for some time, neither speaking nor moving.

He was first to break the silence by randomly asking, "What was your childhood like?"

Unable to stop herself she smiled at the sudden onslaught of memories filling her. Happy memories, for the first time in days.

"Normal," she told him, the smile still in place. "My parents were great, Sean was how every brother was- teasing, protective, loving. Kieran was always there looking out for us. Especially after the death of our parents."

"What was your best memory as a child?" Klaus asked, tilting his head to look at her.

"Every summer we went to a lake house for a couple of days. Sean and I would chase each other around or we'd fish with my dad."

He saw the way her eyes lit up and watered at the memory.

Cami licked her lips before she threw the question back at him, slightly hesitant. "How about you?"

Being someone who had few good childhood memories it was easy for him to tell her the best.

"Playing in the field with my siblings," he revealed. "Back when Innocence still shielded us. Rebekah would ask us to run after her and dutifully, we pretended we couldn't quite catch her even if we tried."

Cami gave him a warm smile for that truth. She could imagine him as a little boy, a doting brother, running across a vast field, chasing a little Rebekah.

"You are not alone, Camille," Klaus suddenly told her, reassured her. "We might not be family, but every single Mikaelson is with you. And Hayley. Hope, even. There's also Divina and Marcel."

He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze towards her, his determined and hers apprehensive, but hopeful.

"I know you have been dragged into this life because of me and my family, but I swear to you I will make it up to you," he vowed. "Permit me and I will do everything in my power to help you, be there for you, and shield you from anyone who aims to do you harm."

"Klaus," she whispered, his words moving her heart. She wanted nothing more than to trust him with both her heart and mind, but there was one matter that they couldn't just ignore.

"What about Aurora?" she asked. "If you still-"

"I do not wish to speak about her-"

"Why didn't you kill her?" she cut him off, annoyed and hurt by his continuous evasion of the subject. Her insides churned from fear of his response. For fear of a specific response. Despite it, she swallowed the lump in her throat and soldiered on. "She was literally in front of you. If you wanted to you could have done it."

"I have already told you why."

"Your logic in that decision doesn't make sense," she spat. "Which only tells me that you spared her out of… residual or lingering feelings for her." Her brows furrowed as she tried to understand his reasoning. He met her eyes and he was surprised by the sudden sadness in hers.

Cami pressed her palms against her face and exhaled. Eyes watering, she asked him sadly, "What about me, Klaus? What about what's best for me?" He remembered the same conversation they had in the cafe as she told him again, "She tried to _kill_ me and you let her live. You had two opportunities to kill her, but you chose to _spare_ her life. _You_ who I have seen kill for far less and pettier reasons," she stressed.

"She could have easily taken my life a second time, Klaus," she reminded him. "And you so easily forgave-"

"I have not forgiven her," he suddenly growled. "She is in a place even the bravest men I know would weep had they been sentenced to such fate. Forgiveness isn't even remotely possible. Every time I think about her harming you, hurting you…" his rage was palpable. Breathing harshly, he continued. "She is paying for what she took from you. I do not want her dead, because then she'd have won." He wanted to reach out to her and run his hand across her cheek, but he stayed where he was and tried to calm himself.

A moment later, as sincerely as he could, he said, "I can't take back what I had- or hadn't- done, but believe me, I did it to punish her for what she did," he reasoned.

"You loved her first, Klaus. And after finding out a thousand years later what Elijah had done, it's perfectly normal for your feelings for her to resurface. Had Elijah not interfered…" Camille couldn't even begin to imagine. "If you still love her, or have feelings for her, then I don't-" she cut herself off and closed her eyes as she tried to put her walls up and brace herself for the pain she was about to inflict on both their hearts.

When she opened them she told him, "I can't be with you. Not if you're unsure of what you want. If you're confused about what you feel. For her. For me."

Heart clenching at the sadness enveloping her, Klaus looked away. Quietly, seriously, he told her, "Say the word and I will personally see to it that she is forever silenced."

A heavy silence followed his offer and for the life of her Cami could not bring herself to tell him to do it.

Klaus watched as she fought an internal battle with her heart and her mind. She had every right to want Aurora dead, but there she was, struggling with a three-letter word that could ultimately give her the peace of mind she so desperately needed. There was no doubt the old Camille was still in there. It gave him hope and the strength to fight for her when all she wanted was to give up and traverse the darker path.

"I'm sorry you have to live in constant fear because of me," he interrupted her thoughts. "I swear to you that I will not make the same mistake twice. Should Tristan and Lucien free her, I vow to hunt them down and I will make her pay if she so much as looks at you again."

This seemed to placate her somewhat. But she did not note the seeming inevitability in his words implying Aurora will, at some point, break free.

Klaus stood up from the floor and ran his hands along the door frame. His head dropped to his chest and he collected himself before looking at her and asked, "May I come in?"

Cami looked torn between calling him out on his gall and allowing him to actually step inside her room. She thought of it for what seemed like an endless minute before finally nodding.

The breath he let out with her permission was something even she heard. But she was glad that he hadn't chosen to just come into her room when he could have. She needed every ounce of control she can get at the moment. She knew she can't control everything, but the little things she had control over- those mattered to her more than she would care to admit.

He sat down next to her, a hand taking hold of one of hers while the other cradled her cheek. His thumb caressed her face, effectively brushing away the tears that stained it as well.

Her eyes screwed shut as his fingers ghosted over her skin. It was only then she realized how much she had craved his proximity, his touch. Her lips parted as if to say something, but she stopped before she could speak when his own moved to speak once more.

Looking right into her, he admitted, "I admit that my ancient feelings for Aurora resurfaced upon discovering my brother's betrayal," he held onto her gently when he felt her trying to pull away from his touch. He would give her sincerity. She deserved to know. "But it was fleeting and I decided to use Aurora's obsession with me to my advantage. I needed her to trust me fully so she can give me the information I needed. Rebekah's coordinates. And their plans to destroy me." He sighed and squeezed her hands in an effort to make her feel the truth in his words. "I am a sentimental man and I will probably always remember her as the first from a short list of women I've loved throughout my existence, but I will only remember her role in my past. She means nothing to me now. And any form of peace with her became impossible the moment she hurt you."

He squeezed her hands again, more for himself now, and leaned his forehead against her temple before requesting, "Camille, please look at me."

Her eyes were closed when he pulled away so he asked her to look at him one more time. When she finally did, his face softened and his voice was soft and strong and loving as he looked into her eyes. Fiercely, and with eyes never as piercing as they were at that moment, he told her,"I no longer harbor any affection for Aurora. You are the one I love, Camille. Only you."

He watched as sadness slowly faded from her visage to be replaced by wonder. He pressed his lips to her forehead before looking into her eyes once more. "It is yours whose happiness and safety I care for. And I wish for nothing more than to be with you. To be happy with you. If you wish the same."

Sincerity swam within the blue oceans of his eyes and she believed every word he uttered.

Her heart started beating faster as she stole glances between his piercing eyes and inviting mouth. His lips have always fascinated her. Pink, plump, and beckoning. And never had it called to her as it did at that moment. With his words hanging in the air around them.

He loved her.

Never could she have imagined him saying it first. Admitting it first. She has gotten so used to them dancing around the possibility of acting on their feelings that his admission swept her off her feet. She smiled upon hearing his heart beating just as fast as hers was.

This love, he thought, it wouldn't be without great consequence. His enemies will not rest until he was dead.

His words have won her over, giving her something to be happy about for once. The possibility of being with him. Of loving him openly. Of him loving her.

There was no reason for her to hide behind walls any longer. Not when he has just broke through that Great Wall of China he hid behind.

Briefly she recalled the words she spoke to Vincent. She now has the answers to those questions. Her heart fluttered.

She adjusted herself on the bed so she can get closer to him. Her palms pressed against each side of his neck, her right thumb sliding affectionately along his jaw.

She licked her lips and pulled him closer before speaking. "I lied," she admitted, the tip of her nose sliding affectionately along the length of his. She smiled adoringly at seeing him take in her proximity with his eyes closed.

She pulled back to look him in the eye and breathed, "I do love you," with such fervent intensity that he would have moved mountains for her in a heartbeat.

His chest felt so full he could hardly breathe, so it made perfect sense to deprive himself of more oxygen by seeking her lips for a kiss that has been long overdue.

His mouth slanted against hers, relishing the sensation of feeling her lips against his again.

She sighed luxuriously as she captured his bottom lip, playfully tugging at it before surrendering her mouth to his tongue. His chest rumbled against hers at the action and she smiled against his mouth.

The hand on her cheek slid to her nape and she loved how he cradled her head and angled it for his assault on her neck. Teasingly, his lips and breath ghosted across her skin, making her moan.

"I love you," he whispered against her ear before nibbling at the shell of it, making her spine tingle.

"Klaus," she whispered, a serene smile taking over her mouth right before he did once more.

When he broke the kiss he leaned his forehead against hers, committing her intoxicating scent to memory.

"Let's get some sleep, shall we?" he invited on a sigh. They were both too tired from the day to take it any further and she agreed, nodding.

He pressed his lips to hers once more before pulling the duvet out of the way the same time he toed off his shoes. She helped him take off his jacket, her hands enjoying the feel of his flesh flexing as he moved.

She settled herself on the bed and waited for him to join her. Face to face, they each took in the other for a moment the same way they did on the night they first kissed before allowing their eyes to close.

Klaus, slightly fearful of a repeat in history, opened his eyes minutes later to just watch her sleep soundly. It was highly unlikely that she had been compelled, but he wasn't taking chances- especially not when it came to Camille's life. Not anymore.

He tucked away a stray lock of hair from her face and he looked at her like he couldn't believe she was right there before him. She was beautiful, he thought. And he would protect her with his life. He listened to her breathe easily, her tired body seemingly grateful for the respite. The sound of her heart soothed him as he thought about them and what her future with him entailed.

 _"Don't kill anyone for me."_

He recalled her words. He knew she was serious then. And he would no doubt kill for her down the line- his enemies will stop at nothing to tear apart anything and anyone he loved. He'll be damned if he didn't fight back.

Briefly he pondered whether allowing them to come together was selfish and stupid. She could easily be used against him. Announcing to the world that he was in love with Camille would be akin to a death sentence. Notwithstanding this, however, he recalled the last words Rebekah had left him with.

 _"I'll run away from love if you'll run toward it."_

A bittersweet smile painted his lips at the thought of his sister. He will find her, he vowed wordlessly. Aurora had been foolish in dealing with Rebekah's safety. He would not be surprised if Rebekah, once they have found her, killed Aurora herself.

Aurora. The name alone made him see red of all shades. Should she try anything to endanger Camille again, he will kill her without hesitation. Or he could delegate the task to Elijah. Either way, he would not let her anywhere near Camille again.

Using his right arm Klaus gently pulled Camille closer so that she was pressed against his side. She shifted in her sleep and her head settled on his chest while her right arm slung over his midsection. He swore he heard her hum in contentment as he ran the fingers of his right hand along the length of her arm.

He smiled and pressed his lips to the crown of her head before whispering,"Sleep soundly, my Brave Bartender, and know I will be here always and forever."


	3. No More Excuses

**_A/N:_** Back with another one! This is just a drabble. Fine, it's a oneshot. But personally I would consider it a drabble. It's short for my standards.

Anyhooo... this one's just me adding some stuff I wish we'd seen towards the end of 3x08 (The Other Girl in New Orleans). It's half a repeat of the scene and half my addition to it.

Don't forget to drop a review- I'd love to hear from you! And keep those prompts coming. Who knows, it might just tickle my muse. :)

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **NO MORE EXCUSES**_

* * *

"Can I get you anything?" Klaus asked, watching as she pressed ice against her head.

Cami shook her head, telling him, "I'm fine." She set the cloth with ice on the coffee table and looked at him, adding, "I mean, my head is throbbing, but... All things considered."

She was such a soldier, he thought. His Brave Bartender.

"Well, for tonight I'd like you to stay here." He watched as she lifted her gaze to him. "Where I can protect you."

She considered saying no, but the look in his eyes was hard to mistake. He was sincerely concerned about her safety. And after what had happened earlier, and how her head hurt at that moment, she was in no condition to refuse the protection he was offering. She didn't think she was prepared for another round with his psychotic ex. Or his first sired vampire.

She nodded her consent and watched as he sat on the table in front of her. He looked pensive.

"Camille, I want you to know- what happened today-"

She cut him off before he had the chance to apologize or explain. She wasn't going to have it. He had no idea Aurora was going to do what she did. And he had no idea Lucien, after making Klaus believe he was actually there to protect his sire, would so easily use Camille and threaten her to procure the Serratura.

"Hey, forget about it," she told him softly. "It's not your fault."

He didn't seem to agree but he nodded anyway- probably to avoid arguing with her.

She looked at him intently for a moment, took a deep breath and said, "I have to ask. Right before you showed up did you hear what Aurora and I were talking about?"

He did. He watched her features turn from frightened to awkward and then back to solemn.

He nodded once to confirm. "Your incident at the university," he said, looking at her. "The man you assaulted."

She couldn't meet his eyes for a while. She wasn't certain how to react to this knowledge he had of her. Of how she, too, had darkness in her. He had always believed her to be someone with an indomitable moral compass.

What he said next she didn't expect, and for some reason she was grateful that he had decided to joke about it. At least she hoped it was a joke.

"I've already compelled some people to go and kill him."

That made her look at him. She studied his face and her surprise slowly morphed into a slowly-blooming smile. "That's a joke, right?" she asked.

Half-serious, he said, "Doesn't have to be." That crooked grin she both loved and hated graced his features and she was genuinely thankful for his presence right then and there.

Calmly, almost sweetly, she requested, "Don't kill anyone for me, please."

He chuckled as he told her, "Whatever you want." Towards the end of his declaration his face turned serious, letting her know that he would actually do whatever she would wish him to do.

His words resonated within her as their eyes communicated words they cannot utter, not yet.

When that short moment passed she adjusted herself on the couch and told him, "It's been a lousy couple of days. Do you mind if I close my eyes for a second?"

He watched her lay her head down on the pillow without waiting for him to respond. It was apparent how tired she was and he hated how her affiliation to him had been the cause of her current state. He had tried so many times to get her out of New Orleans- to keep her safe, but it was as if the universe wanted her to be in his life. For that he was torn between being thankful and afraid.

He retrieved the blanket from the other end of the couch and gently covered her with it until the fabric touched her shoulder and settled a few inches away from her chin.

"Klaus?" she whispered, taking hold of his hand before he could leave. She linked their fingers together and he could not help but stare at her beautiful face as her eyes slowly fluttered open.

He looked at their hands, his stomach clenching at the warmth radiating off of her. A reminder that he had succeeded in rescuing her from Aurora today. A reminder that she lived. A reminder that he needed to shield her from his enemies.

"Stay a little longer?" she requested.

After what had happened, he couldn't deny her anything. He gave her a soft smile and sat down next to her, intent on sitting beside her until she fell asleep.

To his surprise she sat up and situated herself so that she was leaning against him, her head tucking itself into the crook of his neck.

With the slightest bit of apprehension he allowed his arm to enfold her, his hand daring to brush the skin of her arm. She sighed at the sensation and he felt her skin react to his touch.

He called her name quietly, checking if she was still awake. She hummed in response, letting him know she was listening.

"You are too quick to forgive me for this slight, love," he grimaced, guilt eating at him. A while ago he had quickly accepted her letting him off easily. "But believe me when I say I am sorry for what you had to endure with Lucien and Aurora. Tonight would be the last time they would ever hurt you. I swear it."

Cami pulled away from him so she could look into his eyes. One of her hands slid up to cup the side of his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin. She smiled sweetly at him, knowing it couldn't have been easy for him to say those words.

"It wasn't your fault," she told him again, absolving him of his guilt.

Klaus shook his head, "I intentionally misled Aurora, so she would easily surrender everything she knew about Lucien and Tristan's plan." He frowned as he tucked a lock of her golden hair behind her ear. He met her eyes again and said, "I may or may not have done some things to get what I wanted, faster."

"So that's why I haven't seen you in a while?" she teased, trying her best to push down the bubbling feeling of jealousy as she imagined him seducing Aurora. "You've been dangling yourself at her like a bag of freshly squeezed blood?"

He flinched slightly at her words. Any other given day he would accuse her of being jealous, but he had no excuse for his actions. Well he did, but he would wager a bet that she wouldn't want to hear one of them.

Taking one of her hands, he looked down and composed himself, knowing that the truth had to be said.

Cami waited for him to speak. She had a feeling she already knew what he was going to say. She would need to accept the truth that he had slept with Aurora. There's nothing that can be done to undo that.

"If I'm being honest," he murmured, never averting his eyes from hers, "Her arrival surprised me. And the truth that Elijah had compelled her to push me away was something I had to deal with as well."

Cami pursed her lips, her heart twinging painfully at the admission. "Do you still love her?" she dared to ask.

That was a question he could not answer without admitting to her how he felt about _her_. After what had transpired, despite how badly he wanted to be with her, he was certain that it would only put her in harm's way. He would not be able to live with himself if he caused her demise. He shuddered at the thought.

She called his name and he didn't know he had closed his eyes until he opened them to meet hers once more.

"No," he told her sincerely. He could not lie to her. "For a short moment after I found out what Elijah had done I thought it would be possible, but one thought of you..."

His eyes told her everything she needed to know, but she waited for him to continue.

As he looked at her, waiting for him to talk again, he decided he would tell her. He'd just be certain to keep her safe without suffocating her.

No more excuses, he thought. He took a deep breath and continued.

"You have taken up residence here," he pulled her hand down to settle upon his rapidly beating heart. "And no matter how many times I tell myself it would be best to keep you at a distance in order to keep you safe, my feelings for you are as strong as the heart that beats in this chest."

"Klaus," she whispered, not sure if she was hearing him right. "What are you saying?" she asked.

"I do not care about Aurora," he squeezed the hand on his chest and caught her gaze.

"Because I have grown to love you, Camille," he declared, his voice genuine and soft.

The smile that took over her face gave him such joy his heart skipped a beat. He would endeavor to keep her as happy as she seemed at that exact moment. She stole a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"And I will do my best to make up for what I did. And what she had done to you," he added, his words assuaging the hurt she couldn't help but feel at the thought of him and Aurora together.

Smiling, she returned his words, whispering, "I love you, too."

That night, Camille O'Connell was able to do the one thing only his daughter has ever been able to do: claim the heart of Klaus Mikaelson.


	4. The Painter and His Muse

_**A/N:**_ Back with another oneshot!

Noticed that I didn't hear much from you guys re the last one. Happy to have seen via story stats that a lot of people have read though! I sincerely hope you liked it. :)

This one was actually already done before I posted NME. Reason I did not post it first was because I wasn't certain about it being _just_ a oneshot. But since I currently cannot commit to a multi-chapter story, I'll just leave this here for your reading pleasure.

As a teaser for what to expect next from me, I'm working on a smutty oneshot in honor of Klaus and Cami on their 3rd year of existence. Anyone interested in that? *wink wink*

Okay, back to this story. It kind of hurt to write this, but I can't say more without spoiling you all! I guess leave some love or feels in the review section after you've read. ;)

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **THE PAINTER AND HIS MUSE**_

* * *

Raw and captivating.

That was how Cami would describe the view before her. Of Klaus painting passionately on the canvas.

She watched his wrist control the precise maneuvering of the brush in his hand. He was already finished with her portrait, every feature and imperfection on her person replicated in paint and brush strokes.

He had asked to paint her. She did not have the heart to refuse him.

The initial request he had made of her was for them to go to a corner café or the bar, but she reminded him that that was a vision he would have been able to paint by mere memory. He was easily talked out of the first two.

It did not take long for him to be inspired by a different idea, however. Within minutes he had set up his bedroom such that the area closest to the window looked like a comfortable nook in one of their most frequented cafés.

"What would you like me to do?" she had asked.

"Sit," he'd said simply, pulling the chair for her and pushing it forward as she sat. The sunlight penetrating the white curtains had given her an almost ethereal glow that he could not help but admire. She had always been an angel to his demon. He had longed to run his fingers through her golden locks, but restrained himself. He had work to do.

"You want me to just sit," she'd stated plainly, finding it odd. She wasn't going to pretend she had not thought of something resembling _that_ scene in the Titanic. A clothed version, of course. Of course.

He had flashed her that sly, crooked grin of his and she swallowed thickly. Damn him and his charm.

"No, love," he had teased, still smiling. "I would very much like for you to sit back, relax, and just look at me. Just focus on me." His voice had softened at that last instruction.

She had smiled sweetly and gave him what he wanted. He wasn't asking much.

Her thoughts brought her back to the present.

As the day progressed the harsher and faster his strokes were on the canvas. He wanted to finish this before the day ended. He wanted her to see it completed.

In between breaks and light conversation Cami could not help but think how much time it had taken them to get to that point.

His pride, her fear. Her reservations.

Him pulling back whenever she was ready to move forward, with him.

Ancient enemies coming and going to exact revenge on him and his family's past aggressions and misdeeds.

A psychotic ex-girlfriend wanting him for herself, no matter the cost.

She was so lost in thought she didn't even hear him announce that he was done until he called her name a third time.

"Sorry," she said, licking her lips before looking back at him expectantly.

"It's done," he told her with an unreadable look. If you didn't know him well, that was. It was all in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders.

He was afraid of what she would think of his work.

"Come, love," he called out, softly, from where he stood in the middle of the room.

Watching her as she gracefully stood, he could not help but think how beautiful she was. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as she approached.

"What do you think?" he asked when she came to a stop next to him. He watched her face as she took in his art.

He watched as her lips parted in awe, watched as her pupils dilated from genuine surprise. He could tell from the sudden stiffness in her posture that she was overcome.

He had just painted her, she thought, her chest tightening from the emotions taking over her.

Eyes never leaving the canvas featuring herself, she took a deep breath and told him, "I don't know what to say, Klaus."

She looked back at him, eyes moist with unshed tears. "It's beautiful," she whispered, longing to reach out to touch his cheek, longing to press her lips against his.

There was fondness in his eyes when he looked at her and flirted by saying,"It wasn't all me, Camille. I simply painted what is."

That smile of hers will be the death of him. _Death_. He despised the word.

He lifted a hand, pointer finger angled at her. "You-" he stopped for a second, struggling with the words he longed to repeat.

To her he looked like he was struggling with telling her what he thought. What his heart knew to be the truth.

"You are beautiful," he stated. "This is something I have already told you before..."

Yes, she recalled that night. He had pushed her away in order to keep the most important person in his life safe. She had long-forgiven him for that. He had had no other choice. And she completely understood and was so proud that he had stepped up to the plate. That he knew he should always be father first. Everything else came second.

"I wish to keep this here," he shared, but quickly noted, "Or in my study. Having this... it will always remind me of you. It will always keep me from acting first and thinking later, at least as best I can."

He stayed quiet for a moment, swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and added, "It will serve as a reminder that I was given the privilege to have earned your heart."

Her chest blossomed from his words. She realized then that that must have been the reason why he simply wanted her to look at him. There was no mistake in the eyes he had painted that she was in love with him. That was what he had aimed to capture.

"It really is beautiful, Klaus," she admired, stepping closer to the canvas.

They were once again back in Jackson Square, staring at a paintihg.

It seemed only fitting, her asking, "What do you think this painter's story is?"

The most fleeting of smiles graced his lips and he forced himself to suppress it.

"I think you've forgotten," he noted, nostalgia seeping from his voice. "It was I who asked that question."

"I haven't forgotten," she answered in a quiet whisper, lost in thought as she studied and admired every detail of the painting.

He had immortalized her in art.

"Sorrow grips this painter's heart," he revealed, looking only at her looking at his piece. "Sadness has engulfed him at the thought of losing the woman he has grown to love. With a moment in time captured on canvas, his painting is the only way he can keep her alive- keep the memory of her love for him alive."

A tear broke past her defenses and she covered her lips with her fingers as she turned to him and confessed,"I'm not ready." She took deep breaths. "I thought I could do it, accept death like this, make my peace with it." Her eyes were glassy as she repeated, "I'm not ready."

Klaus clenched his jaw, steeling himself, staying strong for her. He had to be her pillar.

Every fiber of his being ached to hold her, comfort her, but how can you comfort a ghost? She was but an essence of the Camille about to depart for where souls went when they passed from this life.

He stood as close to her as he could, doing his best to physically feel her, to no avail. But she was _there_ , and that was something he would savor until the time they had left was up. Or until the witches discovered a cure.

* * *

"There has to be _something_!" Klaus roared, candelabras, plates, and utensils flying from the dining table to the floor.

"Brother!" Elijah called sternly. He approached Klaus, got in his face and told him, "Brother. We have three of the most powerful witches and none of them, individually or together, can stop this."

Klaus looked murderous. His eyes zeroed in on Vincent, rage burning in his eyes.

"I expect you to save the friend you have endangered with your ploy to destroy me," he spat. "I will end you for the hand you played in this."

Knowing the hybrid was right Vincent held his tongue and continued racking his brain for anything else they could try.

"Great, threaten Cami's friend while she lays dying upstairs," Hayley chastised, annoyance dripping from her tone. He was not helping.

Klaus looked at her and was about to cross the short distance between them to say something scathing, but Elijah stopped him once more.

Softly, but firmly Elijah advised his brother, "You are not helping, Niklaus. You are only wasting what little time they have. Allow them to continue finding a possible loophole to this. They already have our mother's grimoire."

Nostrils flaring, Klaus lowered his head. He was tempering the beast within him. His brother was right. But he could not just sit down and wait. He could not help but hear her breathing starting to slow from his room- the quiet sound taunting him, reminding him of her imminent passing. The slower it got, the more anxious and gripped with fear he became.

"Brother, we are doing the best we can," Freya assured him, boldly splaying a hand across his chest. "But we won't be able to do it with you breathing down our necks."

She looked into her younger brother's eyes and her heart broke at the desperation and dread swimming there. They weren't the closest, but they were still bound by blood. And they were all each other had. She licked her lips and vowed, "I cannot promise you that there is a cure, but I swear that I will not give up trying. Even if..."

Klaus turned away, his eyes screwing shut. He did not want to entertain the thought of her dying. Of her light being snuffed just like that.

"Look at me, Niklaus," Freya whispered a plea. When he didn't, she cupped the side of his face and forced him to do so. A tear slipped past his eye the same time Freya asked him to trust her. She wiped it away and told him, "Even if she passes, I will continue to find a way to bring her back to you." She paused. "But I would need you to ask her if this is something she would like to happen." Her voice lowered as she whispered, "We all know you love her, but give her the choice that has always been denied her. She deserves to be at peace."

Klaus processed everything his sister was saying beforefinally nodding. As much as it pained him, he would let her choose.

Freya squeezed his shoulder with a hand and instructed him to go to Camille to sit with her. "She still needs you," she told him before looking at the two other witches surrounding her. She turned to Klaus once more and dismissed him by saying, "We have work to do."

Klaus looked at all of them, his desperate face and sagged posture wordlessly telling them just how important this was to him. He didn't add anything else, just gave them all a stiff nod before leaving the room.

* * *

She passed away early that afternoon.

He gave her the perfect day and stayed with her until the lights went out and her heart gave out from the potency of Lucien's venom.

He held her hand in his until it turned cold and the reality of her passing stabbed him in the heart.

Within minutes of her death Freya, Vincent, and Davina rushed into his bedroom, suggesting something else they could do. It wasn't a remedy for death, they explained, but it was something that could buy them time.

Desperation made him nod and he held her hand until the witches worked their magic to tether her spirit to this world until they figured something out or the day ended and she was forever lost to him.

The moment Freya announced that their spell was complete, they all waited in bated breath for it to take effect.

When it did, Klaus heard her voice once more, the sound music to his ears.

He looked up from the bed and saw her standing on the other side of the bed, looking down at her corpse.

"What the hell just happened?" she asked, in shock.

The witches left them in peace, letting Klaus take the reins with regards to explaining everything.

* * *

After he'd finished his painting they each sat in a chair, just listening to the busy street below.

She said something about wishing she could have a glass of bourbon and he glared at her briefly for mentioning herself and death in the same sentence.

She turned to him and, out of the blue, asked, "Why do you love me?"

"I love you for so many a reason, it would take more than a day to enumerate each," he teased, before growing serious. His brow worried as he looked at a distance before looking back at her, his eyes piercing.

"Because you see me for who I truly am and who I could still be," he told her, reserving no hesitation with sharing his innermost thoughts. "And you have always seen and have faith in the good in me despite knowing my propensity for destruction, which you never condone and never make excuses for."

"You make me want to be who I already was before it all changed with the discovery of my mother's infidelity," he admitted, recalling that time he had told her exactly how his humanity died.

He leaned forward in his seat and tried, in vain, to touch the hand she had set on the table between them. He watched as his hand simply passed through her. His eyes clenched shut.

"Klaus?" she called out, voice coated with sadness.

He looked at her and forced a smile. He soldiered on and told her, "You have made this ancient heart beat in ways I never thought possible again. Your kindness and compassion for others, your intelligence, the light your soul brings to this world, your spirit, not to mention your beauty- all these and so much more have contributed to the love I have grown to carry for you."

Cami's eyes watered from his words, a bittersweet smile on her lips. If only they had more time. She would have showed him just how much she loved him in return.

"You can't let my death undo all the progress you have made, Klaus, you-" he was about to reprimand her for talking about her death again, his mouth opening to voice out his protest, but she silenced him with a piercing look and a hand gesturing for him to stop

"I _am_ going to die today," she told him. She pointed at her cold body on his bed. "I'm _already_ dead," she corrected.

Her face softened as the facade he had been trying to keep cracked. She stood and knelt next to his chair. Despite knowing she could not touch him, she extended a hand to try and touch his face. Her heart constricted when warmth did not meet her touch. Nothing did. She did not let it affect her on the outside, but it was eating at her inside. She had always had the ability to subdue his demons, even if momentarily, with a touch. She despised the inability to do so, now, when he needed her the most.

"You need to stay on the right path," she reminded him. "To protect that which is most important to you, you need to focus on protecting Hope. Mourn me," she swallowed thickly, "But don't undo the strides you have made in the process."

"My death is not worth your regression into that dark path that easily calls to you." Sadly, she looked at him. "It is not what I wish for you," she whispered. "I want you to be happy."

He looked at her helplessly, a tear falling from his eye. "Eternity is a long time," he reminded her, "The thought of not having you in it feels like a dagger to my chest."

"I know," she said. Smiling softly, she teased, "Then love again, when the time is right. And if someone else calls to your heart."

He looked affronted, but she shook her head. "It will not be a betrayal to me," she reasoned. "I will not be here for you. I want you to be happy. All I'm saying is... if the opportunity presents itself, take it."

He didn't acknowledge what she was saying and instead, recalled the conversation he had with Freya.

"If we cannot save you now," he started, turning so that he could face her better. He hated how he could see her ashen body on his bed. Focusing on her, he continued. "I want to know if you would like to be resurrected... if the opportunity presents itself."

She seemed hesitant and as selfish as it seemed he didn't want her to dwell too much on it. Deciding to lay all his cards on the table, he told her his wish.

"If things had been different... you and I would be together now," he lamented, his brows furrowed as he kept his eyes on her. "I would have known, would have felt, what it was like to be with you. To be in a relationship, with you."

It pained him to see the sorrow in her eyes. He abandoned the chair and sat with her on the floor.

"Given the opportunity I would ask for nothing more than the chance to be with you," he expressed. "To know you more than I already do. To make you happy. To explore the endless possibilities of you and I together."

Tears were freely traversing the apples of her cheeks and he loathed the inability to comfort her physically.

"Do not cry, love," he soothed in a whisper, "Should you wish it, Freya and the others will find a way. It may neither be today nor tomorrow, but when the time is right and they have found a way, should you want it, we will bring you back. And you and I can be together, and I will endeavor to repay in love and loyalty the wrong that has been done to you tenfold."

Despite the tempting thought of eternal peace, she would always choose to reside- even if eternally- in the land of the living. Where she can help people. Where her presence can make a difference.

He let out a breath of relief when she nodded her consent.

"I love you," he breathed, angling his head to try and press it against her as best he can.

"I love you, too, Klaus," she whispered, hoping against all odds that they found a way to bring her back.

* * *

Despite their combined efforts they were unable to save her.

When the day ended, it took her along with it.

Klaus cried for her and the fate that had befallen her. His love for her, her importance to him... those had marked her for Death to claim. He was poison to everything he found beautiful, poison to everyone he loved.

He clung onto her lifeless hand, Elijah watching in pained silence as his brother grieved the loss of his sole refuge in the cruel world they were eternally bound to.

"She will be avenged, Niklaus," he vowed solemnly. "The witches, including our sister, have sworn to find a way, when they can, to bring her back."

Klaus nodded against Camille's hand. Silent tears framing his face.

"We will honor her wishes for the funeral," he informed his brother, glancing at him briefly before looking back at Camille.

"We will lay her to rest tomorrow." His jaw clenched from the words he'd just said. He was going to exact retribution for what his enemies had done. They will rue the day they were reborn into immortality.

Klaus glanced at Elijah, his piercing eyes aflame with determination as he added,"Then we end this."


	5. Someone's Got to Give

_**A/N:**_ It's 4AM on a Monday and I'm still awake. You guys should send me some love and tea to keep me up at work later. Just kidding. Anyway, this was a smutfic I committed to writing in honor of Klaus and Cami's 3rd year of fictional existence. I'm still a bit bitter that they had to kill her _after killing her once already in the same season_ , but I have some semblance of hope that she will be resurrected.

This is probably one of my favorite Klaus x Cami scenes. And I seriously wish they had kissed here. Needless to say this is, again, my alternate [and delusional] and extended take. I would have been perfectly satisfied if they'd kissed on the show.

Do leave a review once you're done reading. This is my first shot at smut after an almost-2-year fic hiatus. I seriously feel like this one's decent, but definitely not my best. Grammar and syntax errors will be found, please forgive- it's 4AM. :)

 **Mandatory rating warning** : The entirety of this oneshot is smut, so if this is something you are not fond of, please, please, please avoid reading this chapter altogether.

Follow me on Twitter if you want updates on oneshots and drabbles I'm working on for this pairing.

 _Without further ado, enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **SOMEONE'S GOT TO GIVE**_

* * *

" _I would have found you. Thank you. For the drink."_

With one sharp intake of breath, eyes on his lips, and against the voice in her head telling her there was no going back after this, she decided to follow her heart.

Before he could even run away from her again she gripped the lapels of his jacket and pulled him flush against her. She pressed her mouth to his, her need for him apparent in the way her lips hungrily assaulted his own.

Hands found purchase on her waist and she gasped into his mouth when one arm curled around her, palm splaying on her back to effectively pull her tighter against him. The other hand on her waist slid up between them to cup her jaw in order to deepen the kiss.

His need grew more urgent when she moaned his name as he angled her head for wider access to her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping and soothing along the elegant length of it.

Her insides fluttered at the delicious scratch and prickle of his scruff against her skin. She shuddered in his arms and her hands loosened their grip on the lapels of his jacket, but didn't let go. Her head tilted further to the side, granting him access to the whole expanse of her neck.

He growled his gratitude at this, rewarding her with a nip at the base of her throat, making her gasp.

Inevitably, the need for air became more insistent and the kiss broke with Cami ending it, her eyes apologetic when she met his gaze. Panting quietly, she brought a hand up and allowed her fingers to weave through his curls.

"Hi," he whispered, his voice smoky and breathless, making her smile sheepishly. He mirrored the smile, taking in her radiance, hypnotized by her beauty. He leaned forward to peck her lips, once, twice, a couple more times, causing her to close her eyes and just bask in the softness of his lips.

Her eyes remained shut and lips stayed parted even after he'd pulled away. The sight of her lips, pink from being thoroughly kissed, mesmerized him, but not as strongly as the way her green-blue eyes did when they opened to look at him, wordlessly wondering why he'd stopped.

His stomach clenched from the sudden and fervent need to protect the woman before him. To shield her from anyone and anything that wished to do her harm.

"Kiss me," he quietly implored, hoping she would heed his request before his mind convinced him that keeping her at a distance was best for her. That stopping what felt right was for her best interest. To keep her safe. To keep her _alive_.

A multitude of emotions flitted through the depths of his eyes and she wanted to ask him about each, but his request woke the intrinsic need in her to protect him, to make him happy.

So kiss him she did.

The way she's always wanted to.

Softly. Languidly. Passionately.

Like they had all the time in the world.

Like this wasn't going to have repercussions should his enemies know that she had his ear and, more importantly, held his heart.

He groaned when she tugged on his lower lip. This action awakened his long-held need for her and their kisses transitioned from languid to a more fervent, more passionate exchange.

Her eyes twinkled and her toes curled when his tongue sought permission to ravage her and she happily welcomed it with hers. Pushing, pulling, they each took turns savoring one another, breaths hardly taken in their pursuit of pleasure and familiarity of what reactions their movements elicited from the other.

Fingers combed through hair. Hands grasped at clothing. Nails dug into flesh, but not hard enough to break skin. Mouths continued to kiss and kiss and meld and parted and met again.

Her eyes opened and she saw the entrance to the bar, sirens suddenly blaring in her head. "Turn out the lights," she abruptly instructed on a breath, adding quick instructions on where to find the switches. Relief washed over her that she even had the sense to remember. He may have compelled the earlier customers, but she was not going to have anyone walk in on them. This was too strong. And they were on the precipice of _something_. While it felt good she was not completely certain if it was good for _them_. But she needed him and she was certain he felt the same. She was so overcome by the intensity of just how much she needed him that she could barely think straight.

He drew her away from her thoughts when his lips sought hers once more and she briefly glanced at the door, hoping the lights being out would be indication enough that they weren't ready to serve yet. At least she wasn't.

A heartbeat later something fell to the floor. Her jacket, she realized, when her arms erupted in goose flesh at the sudden air that touched her skin.

Equally needing to feel his skin under her touch she helped him with his jacket, unzipping it as she caught his hot tongue and coaxed it into her mouth.

A growl resonated in his chest at the sensation. Growing impatient at the slowness of her unzipping, he helped her rid his body of the article of clothing. Once out of the way he abruptly turned them so that her back was against the bar, his pelvis rocking into hers. A moan tore through her throat and she felt the torturous warmth between her legs betraying her aching need for him.

He smiled roguishly at hearing the sound before surprising her once more by hefting her off of the floor and onto the counter.

She grinned at him, lifting both hands to rest on each side of his jaw.

He was blown away by the look on her face. So full of love and hope. He was a drowning man who has finally drawn air into his burning lungs. He could not believe he was kissing her. Tasting her. Touching her. He cannot believe that he would actually, finally, be able to love her the way he has always wanted to. If she would let him. If she would have him.

His fingers traced the edges of her dress, his eyes sought permission to relieve her of it. She nodded.

He gathered the fabric slowly, taking his time and enjoying the warmth of her silky legs. He stood straighter, positioned himself better in between her legs and he watched, transfixed, as her bare skin was revealed.

Pupils dilated. Breathing labored. She watched him as he undressed her, watched as undeniable wonder washed over him at knowing her like this, knowing her more intimately. Encouraging his action, her hands grasped his wrists, making him look at her. She smiled and nodded, letting him know what she'd done wasn't to stop him.

The smell of her desire reached him from where he stood and his jeans felt tighter. He had to taste her. He wanted to drive her crazy and make her come. He ached to press his fingers against the plane of her stomach. He needed to lave his tongue at the groove in between her breasts. He wanted to pleasure her to dizzying heights. All of this ran through his mind until he was finally able to pull the dress over her head, leaving him with a sight almost entirely bare and absolutely beautiful.

He let the dress fall to the floor on top of her jacket before he rained kisses on the skin of her jugular. Deft fingers unhooked her bra as he nuzzled her suprasternal notch, making her give out a guttural chuckle.

Her chest was just so full of love for him she wished for nothing more than to let him know, with words, what she felt. But she resisted the urge. It was neither the time nor place to blurt out that she loved him. She just wanted to savor this, being with him, just like this. There would be time for talking later.

Cami extended the same assistance by swiftly freeing him of his shirt. One hand pressed over his heart, momentarily distracted by it. The exact spot where one too many stakes and daggers have been stuck into, in multiple efforts to end his existence, was perfect and unscarred.

He covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to her palm. Seemingly having read her thoughts, he smiled up at her, reassuring her he was very much alive. If only he could have admitted he was also very much in love. With her.

"Camille," he whispered, letting go of her hand in favor of anchoring his hands to her waist.

Her mouth parted as she bent forward and leaned to rest her forehead upon his. "I want you," she whispered, eyes closed, heart hammering. His scent invaded her senses. Hands followed the contours of his arms and his shoulders before landing upon his chest. The rapid beat of his own heart told her that he wanted her just as badly too.

If she only knew, he thought. If she only knew how badly he had yearned for her. To be with her like this.

When the moment passed, he pulled back and looked at her, admitting, "I have always wanted you, Camille." Her eyes widened and he took the opportunity to silence any response she might have had by fiercely capturing her mouth to show her exactly how much.

Euphoric.

That was what kissing her felt like. He could not kiss her long enough, tenderly enough, hard enough. The lusciousness of her lips, the feel of them melding with his, kissing his, wrapping around his tongue, he could not get enough and he needed more. He felt her pulling at him by his necklace, needing him closer than was possible.

He grunted when she bit at his lower lip before soothing the area with her tongue. He exacted revenge by kissing her again and making her gasp when a hand found the underside of her breast.

He moved from her mouth to her jaw, and then her jugular. He nuzzled her neck and followed the path leading to her chest. His lips wrapped around her nipple, pulled it into his mouth and sucked and nipped until it tightened into a peak. Her hand cradled his head and pulled it closer to her, eyes shut as pleasure coursed through her veins. He moved to her other nipple, showering it with the same amount of attention. Her moans and gasps let him know exactly how much pressure and how strong a suction excited her, and he loved how vocal she was about her pleasure.

Convinced he had dutifully satisfied her he kissed each breast tenderly and glanced up at her before dropping light kisses along her stomach. His fingers gathered to cup her hips and her breath caught when she felt him seek approval for what he wanted to do next.

She opened her eyes and looked down to meet his. Taken aback by the intensity swimming in his she whispered,"Please."

Gently, he drew her black thong from her hips and down her legs. He threw it aside and considered removing her boots for her, too, but he did like how she looked with the pair being the only things she wore.

He pulled each leg up, setting each foot on a stool. His fingers then ran up the length of her legs, stopping only when they reached the small of her back. She gasped when he pulled her closer to the edge and, in effect, opened her up to him.

She took a sharp intake of breath when air hit her core at the movement. Their eyes met before his face disappeared at the juncture between her legs and his breath touched her. Then his tongue.

A hand shot to the back of his head, her fingers tugging at his curls while pulling him closer at the same time.

Fingers parted her and she shuddered at the feel of his tongue flattening against her before it moved. Wet and fast and then slow and then it entered her only to pull back out to lave at her opening once more.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she tilted her head back and her mouth fell open in pleasure as he ravaged her. She moaned, gasped, and mewled, her voice quieting down as her body stiffened and she came.

He watched in wondering as she rode her orgasm, etching it into his memory.

He then eased her from her climax, kissing her mound and the small patch of perfectly groomed hair that met him.

When she settled, still quaking once in a while, he introduced a finger inside her, coating himself with more of her wetness. He pressed his nose against her, inhaling his new favorite scent. When he pulled away he introduced yet another finger and her eyes opened, looking at him wildly. He smiled at her, loving her sweat-slicked skin and dilated pupils. She was a sight to behold. And she was his. And he was hers.

His fingers moved and he watched her eyes close from the pleasure he was inflicting upon her senses. His other hand joined the other and he rubbed her in time with his thrusting fingers.

Another orgasm hit her and he was quick to quench his thirst for her as she shook in his arms. He licked her clean, dipped his tongue in her navel, kissed her cleavage, sucked at her neck, and finally, let her taste herself on his lips. Her arms wound around him and she smiled into the kiss.

When their lips parted she ran her hands along his arms before delving down and in between them to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans, and free him from his obviously tight predicament.

She licked her lips as she pushed down the jeans and boxers getting in between her and having him inside her. Her eyes darkened at the sight of him jutting forward. She let him take care of his clothing while he toed of his leather shoes, but she did not waste a moment longer and took him in her hand, pumping him in long and firm strokes.

A hand slammed down next to her as he groaned out his approval of her ministrations.

She leaned forward, whispered something in his ear and the next second he was lining himself up at her entrance looking into her eyes as he ushered his sex into her welcoming heat.

Her hands braced themselves on his shoulders, her nails biting at his skin as she felt him sliding inside her in slow increments.

She let out a breath as he took her breast into his mouth, one of his hands circling her nub, making her hips buck against him. He was overloading her senses making her drunk with need and lust.

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he rose to kiss her neck and then her lips. One hand splayed on the small of her back while the other settled on her hip.

He withdrew once before pushing into her fully, stealing a moan from her. He did it again and she gasped, dropping her head onto his shoulder. The hand on her back soothed her as it ran up her spine and down again, distracting her from the initial sting of his entry despite her wetness.

When she seemed to have adjusted to the size of him inside her, he started pushing into and out of her in earnest, drawing gasps and moans from her throat. She held him closer and nipped at his ear and kissed his neck and braced her temple alongside his, breathing raggedly into his face before she covered his mouth with hers.

They kissed as he sought to bring her to climax a third time, his teeth gritted until she ran her tongue along his teeth to gain entry into his mouth. He easily welcomed her, their tongues tangling and dancing until they could hardly breathe.

He pulled her legs around him and lifted her off of the table, making her moan loudly when he hit a spot inside her that made her stomach coil tightly. He walked towards the room to their right and deposited her on the table, groaning as he slid out of her.

He sent everything on the table crashing onto the floor and she was about to reprimand him when he shut her up with his mouth. He situated her on the square table, letting her recline completely before draping her legs over his shoulders and entering her again.

Filled once more, she hummed, moaning his name in approval.

His movements were sensual, like waves coming and going and coming again. His hips rolled and she met each thrust with equal passion. He held onto her legs and gently moved them to wrap around his waist so he could fold over her on the table, forearms supporting his weight so as not to crush her. He hoped the table could carry their combined weight.

He met her lips in a fiery kiss, her skin reddening at the scrape of his stubble, but she loved it. Every sensation was making her delirious with need and pliant and wanton. She's never been this vocal, this passionate. He brought it out from within the depths of her being. And she loved him more for it.

His mouth let go of hers to let her breathe. He kissed down the hollow of her throat and paid tribute to her breasts, moving from one to the other while he continued claiming her, his thrusts unceasing, but varying in speed and depth.

Her hands slid from his chest to his shoulders to his back and down his ass. When they settled there she pulled him against her. If at all possible she wanted him deeper, so she tried to spread her legs wider. The movement caused him to bottom out inside her. He groaned. She was breathless.

He pecked her lips and pushed himself up so that he was standing before her again, his hands settling on her hips.

Glancing at where they were joined he growled at the sight of him disappearing into her body. The movement mesmerized him.

He watched her as her hands gripped his wrists, her mouth agape as she tried to breathe. She was close, he could tell.

He could hear how her heart hammered in its cavity, could hear her breathing labored, could feel the squeeze of her muscles around his flesh.

One hand slid down to rest above her core and he quickened his pace, knowing he was not going to last longer either. He thumbed her clit slowly at first, making her undulate against him in the most carnal way, and then he rubbed harder until she saw stars and he could no longer hold back from the delicious way her muscles contracted around him.

His back bowed and he continued moving, but gently, the back of his neck cold from the strength of his release.

Her back was arched beautifully and her head was tilted back and her mouth was slack.

He pulled out from her and was rewarded with a beautifully articulated moan. He let her settle until the aftermath of her orgasm had abated. He collected her in his arms and sat her upright on the table. She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes an oceanic blue he can easily drown in.

He kissed her tenderly, lazily. When their lips parted and she found her voice, she whispered, "I hate having to say this, but," she paused, her eyes as apologetic as they were amused,"I really need to open the bar."

A laugh erupted from his chest and she smiled radiantly at him, her eyes shining. He nodded his understanding and kissed her thoroughly once more before retrieving their clothes. She appreciated the view of his backside and the way his muscles flexed as he moved. She blushed upon being caught. He merely flashed her that crooked grin of his as he made his way back to her. She could get used to the sight of him naked, she mused.

They got dressed and cleaned up and when they were done he grew serious as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Looking into her eyes, he told her, "This was nowhere near how I had imagined for us to come together. Despite of it, I want you to know," he cupped her chin, "I do not regret anything. And I would very much like to pick you up once your shift is done, so we can talk."

"About us?" she added, her intonation more a question than a statement.

He smiled fondly and confirmed,"Yes. About us."

Us. She liked the sound of it. She closed the distance between them and captured his lips with her own to kiss him deeply.

When they broke apart he looked at her, skin flush and her lips still red. She was breathtaking.

Her hand cupped his jaw. Her thumb caressing his skin which was covered with a sheen of sweat. She loved him like this. Satiated. Happy. At peace.

"I'll see you tonight," she said, smiling brightly.

He nodded and pressed his lips to her cheek.

"Until tonight then," he whispered against her ear before bidding her goodbye and taking his leave.

She watched him walk away, her heart light but full and happy. He glanced at her one more time, smiling, before he left the premises.

She wasn't sure what the future had in store for them, but she was hopeful. And they were going to talk later that night.

There was one thing she was certain of, however.

It would be impossible for her to look at the counter and the table behind her the same way ever again.


	6. The Morning After

**_A/N: Smut warning for this one, guys. Please skip if this isn't your cup of tea. I should have non-smutty ones, soon._**

This is an alt take on 3x09 where Cami was not compelled and didn't slit her throat and die. :)

I think this one's better than the previous smut, but that's just me.

I'd love to hear what you think though, especially the lurkers! ;) To those who leave reviews regularly, thank you very much! But really, all, thanks for taking the time to read!

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **THE MORNING AFTER**_

* * *

It should not have come as a surprise that she would return the fervent kiss he had planted on her lips last night, but it did.

Hearing her whisper her acceptance of his invite to retire to bed- his bed- for the night, that had surprised him as well.

The possibility of him ever ceasing to be awed by her affection for him was unlikely. She was pure and perfect and he was so flawed and toxic that the thought of her willingly wading into the water with him was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. She was an intelligent woman and she could do so much better and yet she had chosen him.

His heart blossomed from the weight of her trust and faith that he was afraid of letting her down. He did not want to look into her eyes one day and see disappointment and regret.

His thoughts drifted back to the present, his worries of the future discarded to the back of his mind, for now.

He had brought them to bed last night. They had flirted and kissed some more, but it had stopped there. Then they'd slept.

Warmth welcomed him when he woke. Her warmth. The left corner of his mouth tugged up, a half-smile forming. Heat radiated from where his palm lay and the half-smile morphed into a full one when realization hit him. He had sidled closer to her in sleep. His arm was slung over her midsection, his hand cupping her hip possessively.

He had never slept so soundly as he did, with her enchanting eyes the last thing he saw before Sleep had claimed him.

Last night had been the perfect end to a perfect and peaceful Christmas eve. It felt odd, having one night of normalcy. It was refreshing.

Waking up with her right there, right next to him... it felt right. Like she was always meant to fill up the empty space in his bed. His life. His _heart_.

This morning was a new beginning for him and Camille, should they wish it. Should they _pursue_ it.

Her scent infiltrated his nostrils and he pressed his lips to her shoulder. A quiet hum escaped her throat and he let his smile press against her skin. She did not stir. He let his lips rest upon her skin, her presence alone calming him.

This was what he fought for, he thought. Family and love. It was what drove him to do the things he did now.

When he'd first arrived back in New Orleans he was nothing short of a monster wanting to reclaim the city he had once fostered.

His old self had killed for the pleasure of killing. He spilled blood solely for his enjoyment. He had practically made a sport of it.

Comparing that man to the one he knew he was today... he would say he has gone a long way.

All things considered, he was a changed man. Being a father contributed profoundly. Knowing Camille did, too, greatly. Having regained the trust of his siblings factored into the equation as well.

And while no day went by where he did not question whether having love in his life was worth having that vulnerability, that weakness that can be exploited and used against him or not, he liked this version of himself.

Plagued as he was by his own demons, he has been more reasonable, more inclined to listen. He was still capable of the same violence and destruction, however, if pushed into a corner. He would always take action if he himself or people he held dear were threatened. He would plot and he would save them at whatever cost.

He had so much more to fight for, now, but he also had more to lose. His stomach knotted at the thought of losing anyone. He looked at the woman next to him. He would not allow anyone to take her from him. He pressed his lips to her skin once more before he closed his eyes, thinking about her instead of the many ways her being in a relationship with him was detrimental to her survival.

It did not occur to him that he had drifted off to sleep again until he woke up to the feel of fingers dancing in feather light strokes along his jaw and the back of his ear.

Eyes fluttering open, he swallowed what would have been a sharp inhale at being warmly welcomed by green blue orbs that never failed to see through the very heart of him.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered, rolling further onto her side when he greeted her back, so she could bury her face in the space where his neck and shoulder met. She pressed her lips tenderly against his skin and smiled. She could not help herself. Her heart was brimming with joy- it's been a while since she was overwhelmingly happy.

Grinning, Klaus nuzzled into her glorious golden locks, drowning himself in her scent. The hand on her hip slid under her top and along her skin to settle on the small of her back.

She shivered under his touch, an exhale leaving her lips and ghosting over his neck. One of her hands, stuck in between them, found its home over his heart. She fixed her gaze on where the tips of her fingers lay before tilting her head to meet his soft gaze.

At that moment, she wished for him to never stop looking at her that way. It made her breath catch the same way his sly crooked grin does. But that soft gaze, neither a smile nor a frown, with a hint of barely hid wonder, told her some things he found hard to express. And it made her love him more, knowing that his feelings for her ran as deep and as complex as hers.

Ridiculously red lips caught her gaze and interrupted her thoughts and unlike the other times she'd merely stopped and stared, she inched forward to rest hers upon them. A morning greeting, if a reason was necessary, but she just wanted to feel his lips on hers again. After last night she'd come to realize that she loved kissing him.

How could she not? His lips were soft and full and talented. He knew how to kiss and she let out a breath when he changed angles and caught her bottom lip in between both of his and sucked. The hand on his chest slid up to cup his chin and her thumb pressed down lightly under his lower lip. When his mouth parted she kissed him properly, eyes fluttering closed.

It was addictive, kissing him.

She sighed into his mouth when the hand on the small of her back slid along her skin and stopped at the curve of her waist. Once he was there she felt him gently pushing her onto her back and, without any hesitation, she let him. Their mouths parted and he leaned his forehead onto hers as he propped himself up with one arm.

She bit her lip, looked at him, and nodded before allowing the hint of a shy smile to take hold of her face.

Her breath caught, and she was certain he heard this by the way his pupils dilated as he looked at her, when he situated himself above her and in between her legs.

He could hear the shift in her heart rate, the quickening of her heartbeats, and he was certain, if he listened intently enough he could probably have heard her blood rushing through her veins to keep up with his ministrations.

The entirety of his being was aflame with want and need and he gazed upon Camille, his world stopping momentarily as he took in the sight before him. Her hair fanned out across the pillow. Her pupils mirrored his need and were evidence of how she felt. Her skin was soft and smooth and fluttered at every caress. It amazed him, the reactions he was eliciting from her.

Fingers brushed his skin and he looked down to see her toying with the edges of his shirt. She sat up and met him for a brief, lingering kiss before dragging the shirt up and over his head.

Shirt out of the way, he dipped his head low and showered her face with light kisses so tender she closed her eyes and just basked in the attention. His hands slid up her arms and stopped at either side of her neck, thumbs running along her jaw and the skin under her ears.

Her palms lay flat on his chest as his lips moved from her forehead to each of her eyelids to the bridge of her nose to each of her cheeks and down until he captured her mouth once more.

A luxurious hum escaped her and she smiled when their mouths parted only to meet again, his tongue seeking access this time around. Access she readily gave by willingly allowing his tongue to part her lips and seek hers.

Unable to stay in one place any further, her hands started roaming his chest. She felt the light dusting of hair over his chest and heat pooled in between her legs as she imagined feeling him on top of her, their chests brushing. She imagined his weight on her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

When lips and tongue and stubble began brushing the side of her neck, she cradled his head with a hand, fingers threading through soft hair. She moaned throatily when he bit at her. He did it again and she tugged at his hair in reaction to the pleasure she felt. He growled at the sensation and she chuckled breathily when he punished her by nibbling at her neck once more. He was being gentle, he was holding back in fear of hurting her, she noticed.

"Camille." It was her name on a breath, blown onto her heated skin.

Her eyes screwed shut and her lips drew into a thin line as her heart clenched at the sound of her name leaving his lips.

She loved him. She loved him so much it felt like her heart would explode.

A tear escaped her eye and he asked her to look at him. He called her name again as he wiped away the tear. When she opened her eyes to heed his request she was struck by the clarity of his eyes. He looked so content.

"Beautiful."

Her face flushed at the compliment, responding with a kiss to his heart before looking back up at him.

There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but instead of speaking she found both his hands, cupped them, and interlaced their fingers.

Eyes never leaving his she watched as desire washed over him when she led his hands from her neck to her chest. She nuzzled the side of his face when he bent forward.

Emboldened by her confidence he squeezed her breasts, making her gasp in surprise and pleasure.

"Undress me," she rasped.

He could not have fulfilled her request fast enough. He pulled her hands to his mouth and pressed kisses onto the knuckles of each before releasing them with the intent of putting his hands to better use. Never breaking eye contact he helped her out of her top.

With utmost care he helped situate her in the middle of the bed and laid her down on her back. She nodded when his eyes and fingers sought permission to rid her of the remainder of her clothes.

Thumbs ran down her sides before she felt the garter of her skirt and underwear surrender to the pull of his hands. He tossed the garments to the floor and he committed the exquisite sight of her, bare, before him, to memory.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached for his belt, unbuckling it impatiently. He exhaled as she popped the button of his jeans and unzipped him, alleviating the pressure he felt from how tight his jeans have become. She caressed him through the fabric of his boxers and he groaned when she slipped her hand underneath to feel his body's response to her. She squeezed and he gasped and she wrapped her fingers around him and he gasped once more.

He quickly divested himself of his jeans and boxers, and then crawled back in between her legs and sought her mouth. Quick to reintroduce his tongue, he wasted no time in tangling his with hers, pushing and pulling and melding.

She moaned beneath him, her hands roaming his upper back, her nails deliciously scoring his skin. The evidence of his need pressed against her and she thrust against him, letting him know that she needed him just as ardently. He groaned into her mouth when she thrust again, feeling himself harden further against her.

He pushed himself up on his arms and looked down at her. She was breathtaking, he thought, as she met his gaze through half-lidded eyes clouded with desire. Balancing on one arm he lifted a hand to run the back of his fingers along the apple of her cheek and her strong jaw.

Lowering himself on his forearms as he kneeled over her, his lips mapped her face and made its way down. He paused at the tender right behind her ear and sucked at it until it reddened, making her run her nails down his back. He soothed her skin with a swipe of his tongue, smiling victoriously against her supple skin. Once satisfied with his mark he moved lower still, tasting her skin, and showing her in actions what he has yet to tell her in words.

Successive moans and exhales were stolen from her as he lavished her breasts with his undivided attention. He took each of her nipples into his mouth alternately, sucking and nipping and teasing them into hardness.

Certain he had treated her breasts well he pressed one final kiss to the grove at the center of her chest and made his way further down her body. His tongue laved at her navel and continued down until he reached her pubis. Her knees bent on either side of him, he curled his arms around her legs and settled his hands at the tops of her thighs to keep her in place.

Klaus called out her name then, his voice low and husky. Her essence was invading his nostrils, making thinking straight rather challenging. When their eyes met she gave him her consent, her hands covering his to brace herself. He dropped a kiss against her pubic bone before allowing his tongue to delve in between her folds, the scalding heat and wetness of his tongue setting her nerve endings on fire. Another flick of his tongue and her hips rose from the bed, chasing his mouth and his tongue and the sensations that came from him feasting on her. She was wet beyond belief and he marvelled at it, marvelled at her.

Her back arched gracefully off of the mattress as his tongue flattened over her core and slid up to her clit. Her hands roamed her body as he savored her. She tasted divine; sweet like nectar and something else uniquely her.

He uncurled one arm from around her thigh and slickened two fingers using her wetness. Without any warning he thrust a finger inside her, easing it gently to the hilt before adding another. One of her hands moved to cover the crown of his head in an effort to draw him closer to her heat. He rewarded her with a slow and particularly lengthy lap of his tongue. She shivered beautiully underneath him, whispering for more and faster and asking him not to stop.

Dutifully he gave her what she wished and as he took her clit into his mouth and left it to the mercy of his tongue she came abruptly, her eyes screwing shut, her back off the bed, fingers on his head and gripping a handful of sheets.

As she descended from her first release, her skin glowing with a sheen of sweat and her wetness flowing freely and coating his already soaked fingers, he thought about their future and the many chances he had to pleasure her like this.

"Klaus," she whispered, drunk in desire. His name leaving her lips like that made his straining sex twitch. He groaned before lowering his head once more.

With his tongue and his fingers he endeavored to take her to even more dizzying heights, to make her lose all control and scream his name as she came with his mouth on her and his fingers inside and against the inner walls of her sex. Hips rhythmically followed his mouth and he had to move his arm from around her thigh to her midsection to keep her in place, the palm of his hand pressing down on her lower abdomen, bringing her even more pleasure.

After her first orgasm he had lost count of the number of times he'd drawn her close to the edge only to ease her from it, making her delirious with the need to come. When he was convinced that he head teased her enough, he wreaked havoc on her body and her senses once more and led her to an earth-shattering orgasm that made her quake uncontrollably before stilling as she rode its waves. He peppered her skin with kisses and he continued easing his fingers into and out of her core until she settled, with delicious after shocks striking her.

He kissed each of her inner thighs before crawling back up her body like a wolf stalking prey. When he reached her face he covered her mouth with his, allowing her to taste herself, on him.

She moaned into his mouth and lifted her hips to his, loving the feel of his hard length pressing against her. The need to feel him claim her was strong and she could almost feel him there if he'd only angle his hips. She slid a hand down from his back to his ass and the moment she squeezed a taut globe he knew what she wanted.

Legs spreading farther apart she offered herself up to him, free hand cupping the side of his face. Looking into his eyes, she whispered her wish.

"Take me."

Her words, how she asked to be taken, he did not know he could have gotten any harder than he already was. He need not be asked twice. He was about to do as he was told when he felt her take him into her hand, pumping him once, twice, before lining him up at her entrance. He exhaled at the warmth of her hand and shivered at the wetness coating the tip of his sex.

She guided him inside her and he watched, bewitched, as her eyes dilated and fought to stay open as she welcomed him inside her body and further inside her heart.

Filled to the brim, she pecked him on the lips and thrust upward gently to let him know she had adjusted to his size.

He bit back a groan as her walls encased him in molten heat, drawing him insider her further. His pelvis rolled into hers and they moaned together, their combined heat and her wetness making him want to move faster. He maintained his pace, groaning as she tightened her muscles around him on purpose. He looked at her and she smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. Evil woman, he thought delightedly. She will be the death of him.

Eyes locked onto hers, he watched her and felt her body respond to every move he made until she could no longer keep her eyes half-lidded much less fully open.

He lowered himself on his forearms and she gasped at the wonderful feeling of his weight on her, their chests touching. One of his arms dove beneath her, a hand splaying on her lower back while the other cupped her nape.

He kissed her until she needed air, his hips thrusting and rolling and stabbing. She was delirious, meeting his hips with equal fervor, the sounds of skin meeting skin, sweaty and hot, heightening her passion.

When it seemed like his movements were not going to get any harder, she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. She smiled sweetly at him and said,"Don't hold back."

He shook his head, exhaling heavily against her palm. She cut him off before he could say anything, telling him,"I won't break."

With the things he wanted to do to her she would, he thought. He would split her in half. Her mortality was not her fault and he did not blame her for anything. It just meant he had to temper his deepest urges, because he was the last person who would ever hurt her on purpose.

"I want to feel all of you," she expressed, the need in her voice calling out to him. "I want to know how much you want me," she breathed. "How much you need me."

Her hips rolled and his name left her lips in a moan and something in him broke.

"Look at me, Camille," he urged, needing her to understand the importance of adhering to his stipulation. "You need tell me when it's too much. Please," he implored, forehead on hers. "The last thing I want is to cause you pain when all I want is to give you pleasure."

She nodded against his skin, understanding the severity of his words.

With her consent, his control broke and he thrust into her the way he's wanted to from the moment she took him inside her body. He watched her eyes widen and relief coursed through him when all he saw was pleasure. Her nails dug into his skin and he thrust into her again, hard.

His name left her lips as he drove them up the bed with the strength of his thrusts and she gave no indication that he was hurting her.

His mouth found her neck and he sucked at her skin, at her jugular, at the base of her throat. He could not get enough. The beat of her heart thundered in his ears, letting him know the intensity of her pleasure.

Her hips met his again and again and again and he basked in her sensuality. The tips of her breasts brushed against his skin with every move, her hair in disarray over them. His skin reveled in the feel of her breath ghosting over him every time he pulled out and disappeared once more into her tightness. She was a goddess. And he did not deserve her. He thrust particularly hard at that thought, making her mewl in pleasure and whimper at the slight discomfort of feeling him bottom out within her. She clutched at him, breathless.

Shifting, he altered the angle at which he entered her and watched, entranced, as her mouth fell open at a particular spot he hit within her. His hips retreated and pressed down onto hers the same way and she shattered in his arms, shaking at the sudden onslaught of pleasure that hit her. He lowered his head to claim a nipple into his mouth, distracting himself from the delectable contractions of her sex on his.

When she came down from the high she grinned at him before surprising him by rolling them so that he lay flat on his back and she straddled his hips. He twitched inside her and her breath hitched.

Palms on his torso she looked at him, loving the shock in his eyes. She raised herself on her knees before lowering herself onto his hardness, intoxicated by the sensation of being filled by him over and over again.

His pelvis tilted and she rolled her hips against his, feeling him deep within her. Nails scraped against the skin of his lower abdomen at the same time she lowered and squeezed and he thought he would come right then and there.

She grinned at him, the wicked, wicked woman. His hands rose to cover her breasts. He squeezed and pinched and fondled and she moaned alongside her movements, hands keeping his wrists where she wanted them. She moved and she took what she wanted, her head upturned towards the ceiling.

He watched as her mouth fell open, her breathing erratic as she approached yet another orgasm. He trailed one hand towards her heat and he rubbed at the nodule at the apex of her core vigorously, gritting his teeth at her muscles squeezing and releasing and squeazing at him as she tumbled into oblivion for the fourth time that morning.

Without waiting he moved and pinned her back under him, parting her legs and sliding back inside her heat.

She clung onto him, her feet urging him on as they pulled him as close to her as she could. She captured his mouth and his tongue and she kissed him until she thought she might pass out from the lack of oxygen in her brain. She gasped at his incessant thrusting, the feel of his sex hitting the edge of her again and again making her moan his name out loud. She was close again, so close, but she wanted him to come with her. She wanted him to feel as overcome as she did. She wanted to feel the evidence of his desire for her, to be flooded by his release, to be claimed by it.

His thrusts were faster now, his hips slamming into hers with a force that took her breath away and shook her to her core. He pulled back and rocked back into the sweet spot between her legs and he groaned against her neck as she pulled at his hair and scratched at his back and bit at his neck and his ear.

Her eyes, he wanted to see her eyes when he came. He pulled his head up and did as he wanted, gasping her name and asking her to look at him.

"Come for me, Camille," he beseeched, his jaw clenching and tightening just as his hips jutted forward one last time before his back bowed and his body tightened as he came, spilling himself into her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing harshly upon her heated skin.

An exaltation in the form of his name left her lips as she came and felt him come, her nails digging into the skin of his upper back and drawing blood. A feral growl and her name tore through his throat at the pleasure and he sucked at her neck, his stubble rough but pleasant on her neck.

She threw her head back against the pillow as she indulged in wave after wave of ecstacy assaulting every fiber of her being.

He was still pushing against her when they recovered. But lazily now, and the sticky sound of their combined fluids aroused her again. When she felt him harden inside her she smiled. He felt the same.

He made love to her slowly then, his thrusts strong but languid in pace, building them up to a release only lovers who have been together for so long can manage.

They came quietly this time, a sharp breath coming from her while he simply bit at her neck to stifle his own sounds.

She was soaked with their fluids and she had no other word for how wonderful it felt, drowning in the wetnesss that came from herself and him. She felt in between her legs with her fingers, sampling the sensation. She shivered and he groaned at seeing her touch herself and feel his semen mixed with her fluids.

Without breaking eye contact she tasted him from her fingers and kissed him. A decadent moan whisped past their joined lips and he swallowed any more that she had to release. Their tongues molded against each other, simply enjoying the post-coital glow and the intoxicating smell of sex surrounding them.

Eventually he pulled out of her, and he watched as his release escaped her folds, gathering right outside her swollen lips. His cock twitched at the sight and he would have mounted her again if he did not see how tired and relaxed she already was. He shall ravage her again later.

He thought of wiping her clean but he was a possessive man and he liked seeing her claimed like this. She was his and he was hers.

He settled on his back next to her and pulled her to his chest. She smiled at him, radiant and happy and beautifully flushed. Her skin was pink from the assault of his stubble and lips and he tilted her head to locate the mark he had left on her skin. He smiled when he found it.

"You just had to do it, didn't you?" she teased, not at all minding. She would only need to keep her hair down and no one would know but him. He merely grinned in response, tucking a stray wisp of hair from her forehead.

They looked at each other then, naked and sweaty and together in bed. Neither could believe it had happened, but there they were, blissfully happy about it.

Her fingers traced the outline of veins on the arm cupping her cheek. Her heart bloomed when he shivered from her touch. She glanced back down at him before pressing her lips to his once more. He readily accepted the kiss, his fingers carding through her hair.

When they parted she rested her head on top of his heart, the steady beat of it slowly lulling her to sleep.

She thought about a future with him. She knew he wouldn't let her out of his sight, not after this. They would need to make arrangements. There were so many things to consider and she didn't even want to get started about Lucien and Aurora. She hadn't even thought about those two until that moment. Klaus would have her stay here, most likely. What had happened has just cemented what they were, now. They were officially a couple. She was in a relationship with Klaus Mikaelson.

Those thoughts brought forth exhilaration from within the depths of her and she lifted her head to look at him once more, incandescent happiness for once swimming in those beautiful blue eyes of his. It was infectious. She closed her eyes and kissed him again. She trusted him. She trusted _them_. Everything was going to fall into its rightful place, eventually. They just had to trust each other.

Klaus savored the feel of her in his embrace. An angel. That was what she was. The perfect companion to this devil in disguise, he thought. But she had brought out the best in him and continued to do so to this day. Along with Hope, Camille O'Connell the human, saved him from the darkness.

In the quiet sanctuary of his bedroom, he vowed to protect the woman in his arms. He laced their fingers together and he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. She will not be used as a pawn by his enemies. He would not allow it. He would teach her to fight, if he must, and if she wanted to learn. He was thankful that she was already digging through and learning more about her family's dark objects. Those would help her.

The sigh of contentment that left her lips pulled him from his thoughts and he squeezed her hand. He smiled as she returned the action.

His fingers ran across her skin in soothing patterns. As her steadying heart beat echoed in his ears, his mouth opened and he almost blurted out three words he'd been dying to express.

But he shut his mouth before a word could escape him.

He wasn't going to tell her he loved her. At least not just yet.

Not after having ravished her fully the first time, no. As much as his tongue ached to say it, as much as his heart threatened to give out without saying it right at that moment, no, he would not tell her yet.

He had specific venues ideal for such declaration.

At a corner cafe, on a perfect afternoon, experiencing the moment when the streets started coming alive with music and art and culture. He would take her hand and tell her as day transitioned into dusk.

Or along Frenchmen Street, listening to jazz and drowning in the music. He would invite her to dance and she would probably say no because she felt she was bad at it, but he would persist. While dancing he would pull her close and he would tell her. Then kiss her. Then hope she would return the words.

Or in Jackson Square, revisiting the fateful night they met, staring at a painting. He would remind her of her observance of the artist and his demons and an angel's pivotal role in helping him overthrow them. She would look at him, wide-eyed, and he would tell her then.

Probably even in all those places where he would have found her.

His beguiling muse.

His brave bartender.

His soulmate.

His Camille.

He listened to the beat of her heart and the soothing sound of her breathing as she slept. He planted another kiss on the crown of her head.

He would tell her he loved her tonight, he decided.

For now he would celebrate finally having shown her, without reservations.


End file.
